


The Sun Will Rise

by xxgingerchanxxx



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Hades (Video Game 2018), The Iliad - Homer, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Canon, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, First Time, Fuck Or Die, Happy Ending, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Virgin Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:33:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27887605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxgingerchanxxx/pseuds/xxgingerchanxxx
Summary: A virgin sacrifice is required to ensure that Achilles's expedition to Troy reigns successful.“What did you say?” He speaks through gritted teeth, punctuating every word. Peleus watches the exchange between his wife and son nervously, knowing better than to get involved when two immortal beings are at arms.“In order for you to be revered for years to come, we must offer a sacrifice,” Thetis says simply, as if inquiring about the weather. “Patroclus has been chosen.”
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus
Comments: 25
Kudos: 493





	The Sun Will Rise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celiye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celiye/gifts), [goodwrittens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodwrittens/gifts).



> 1\. I really dislike Madeline Miller's characterization of Thetis. However, it lends well to the plot of this story. 
> 
> 2\. This story is currently un-betaed as it is a gift for my usual betas. It will be updated with any necessary changes eventually.
> 
> 3\. This story takes place right before Achilles ships out for the Trojan War but both characters are of age in this AU.

The effect of Thetis’s words is overwhelmingly resounding, but Patroclus can’t hear what else she is saying over the pounding of blood in his ears. He worriedly glances at Achilles, hoping that there has been some mistake, that he heard her wrong. But from the look on his friend’s face, the way it contorts into anger, the way he clutches his hands in fists and shoots daggers at his mother, Patroclus knows that there is no hope.

He reaches out to take Achilles’s hand in an attempt to mollify him, but Achilles jerks away from his touch and stalks over to his mother. The rest of the council watches, silent. They have seen what Achilles can do in his anger, and do not wish to be on its receiving end.

“What did you say?” He speaks through gritted teeth, punctuating every word. His growth spurt has done him well. He towers over his mother, who isn’t a small woman herself. Beside her, Peleus watches the exchange between his wife and son nervously, knowing better than to get involved when two immortal beings are at arms.

“In order for you to be revered for years to come, we must offer a sacrifice,” Thetis says simply, as if inquiring about the weather. “Patroclus has been chosen.”

“There is absolutely no reason for him to be the sacrifice,” Achilles hisses, flames of increasingly growing anger reflecting in his eyes. “There are hundreds of others who would gladly give themselves for this honor.”

“You will not argue with me on this, Achilles. It has been decided. A virgin sacrifice must be made to Athena for her to grant you immunity on this siege. Or do you wish to die forgotten?”

Patroclus blushes. Thetis watches them like a hawk at all times. There is no reason for him to be surprised that she knows. But it is still embarrassing to have this announcement made about him in open court. For everyone to know that, despite being a man and having his choice of the litter as Achilles’s second, he has not yet lain with another.

“And what makes you think I want this? That I will agree to this?” Achilles seethes.

“I am not asking you for your opinion. I am telling you.”

“Like hell! You listen to me—”

“Achilles,” Patroclus steps forward and grazes his arm. He doesn’t want Achilles to make a spectacle of himself. There is already talk of him being too hot headed to rule and he doesn’t want to exacerbate those rumors. Doesn’t want to cost Achilles his birthright. Not for him. “It’s okay,” he says softly.

“Shut up!” Achilles roars as he spins around. His chest heaves and he breathes angrily, shaking as he attempts to control himself. Everyone stares at him in shock. Achilles has never raised his voice at Patroclus, let alone addressed him with such fury. “Just shut up, Patroclus! How is this even remotely okay? Is there something wrong with you?”

“Achilles, we are in court,” Thetis snaps. She glares at Patroclus, who instinctively shrinks back, no doubt blaming him for her son’s lack of rationality. Years have passed since he first met Thetis and despite all of the training and lessons, she remains the only one in the world who can frighten him. “Stop behaving like a little girl who has had her favorite doll taken from her.”

“You hate him,” Achilles accuses. He jabs a finger in Thetis’s direction. One of the council members gasps at his audaciousness. “You’ve hated him ever since you met him. For no reason. And now you want to take him.”

“My son—” Peleus finally stands and walks forward. He reaches out and gently pushes Achilles’s hand down.

“And you!” Achilles spits, turning sideways to point the same accusatory eyes at his father. “You. You’re letting her do this. Are you not the king? You can stop this!”

Peleus’s eyes are pained and he reaches out for his son once more. “Please try to understand. You must sacrifice that which is nearest and dearest to you. That is the only way Athena will be appeased. What is a sacrifice if you do not feel the pain of its loss?”

Achilles slaps his arm away and steps back shaking his head. “What good is power in name? You say you are the king, but you cannot even save the life of a mortal boy. You are nothing but a slave to your duty.”

Peleus sighs and lifts his eyes to look at Patroclus. He beckons him forward and Patroclus obeys on shaky legs. He grits his teeth, forces himself to be steady as he throws his chest forward and straightens his back. Tries to look bigger and more threatening. Anything to ensure no one thinks him as weak.

“My dear boy,” Peleus says, ignoring Achilles’s glare. He places a hand on Patroclus’s head, having to stand on the balls of his feet to reach, and drags it back through his hair endearingly. “I am sorry to ask this of you. But you must understand. As Achilles’s companion, you must always put him first. It is the inherent contract you signed when you agreed to take this role.”

Patroclus blinks back tears and stares straight ahead as he answers, “I understand. I will not question your decision.”

His voice cracks just a bit at the end and from the corner of his eye, he can see Thetis looking at him disapprovingly, as if he should have no qualms in giving up his life. Achilles makes a pained noise and turns away.

Peleus nods and embraces him with tears in his eyes. He shakes slightly against Patroclus as he pats him on the back before pulling away and holding him by the shoulders. “We will make sure that your sacrifice does not go to waste. Generations to come will know of you and we will honor you in the noblest way possible.”

Patroclus is about to cry so he simply bites his lip and nods before bowing deeply to the king. “I am indebted to you.”

He turns to Thetis and repeats the action. “And to you, my lady, I thank you for the honor.”

Thetis tilts her head in acknowledgement before turning back to her son. “They will come for him at daybreak. You will conquer Troy and return the greatest of all.”

Achilles shakes his head and narrows his eyes.

“If you take him, you will lose me as well,” he replies bitterly, before stalking away.

Patroclus sighs and looks at Peleus with what he hopes looks like reassurance. “I will speak to him when he returns.”

Peleus nods before tiredly collapsing on his throne.

— — —

Achilles returns far after the moon has risen, his face stoic. He slams the door to their room and collapses on his pallet, facing the window. He stares at the ocean waves rolling by before dropping his bloodshot eyes to his hands. Patroclus watches silently, unsure of what to say. He has made his peace with his destiny and is not angry with it. He has lived a far better life than he could have imagined after being exiled from Opus, and for that, he has Achilles to thank.

Still, despite being the sacrificial lamb, he is worried about Achilles. It is obvious that his friend has been crying relentlessly. If there is one thing that Patroclus is angry about, it is that Achilles has had to feel this way because of him. He has unwittingly hurt Achilles and even now, he will be leaving him behind. Going into the unknown without the comforting presence that has stood by him for over ten years.

Seconds creep by before Achilles finally speaks huskily, “Patroclus, what would make you angriest with me?”

“What?” Patroclus scrunches his brows in confusion. This is not how he imagined their conversation would begin.

“If I knew of a way to save your life, but you did not like it, would you still be angry with me? Even if it saved you?”

What in the world is he talking about? “Achilles, please. I don’t understand.”

Achilles stands suddenly and approaches him. He stares down at Patroclus, silent and obviously contemplating, before pulling him up by the neckline of his tunic and crashing his lips against his.

Alarms go off in Patroclus’s head and he gasps as he tries to push Achilles away, but the other simply grabs his hands in his own, threads their fingers together, and pushes him back against the wall next to his bed.

What is happening today? Patroclus’s head spins and he tries to breathe through his nose as Achilles presses closer to him, forcing his lips open against his own. His hands are pinned on either sides of his head and he can barely move.

“It is the only way,” Achilles insists, adjusting his grip so that he is holding both of Patroclus’s wrists in one hand. The other wraps around his back and pulls his waist flush, deepening their kiss. “They need a virgin. They cannot take you if you aren’t one anymore.”

It is childish logic, but the emotions finally take over and beside himself, Patroclus breaks. Hot, angry tears drip down his cheeks as he curses his luck. He can’t do this. He can’t take Achilles’s pity. Warm his bed for a night to save his life and then go back to normal tomorrow. He can’t risk Thetis’s further disapproval, disappoint Peleus, doom the future of Phthia for a single night of pleasure, and then stand by and watch Achilles continue on as always tomorrow. He would rather die than be a pity fuck. “Achilles, please stop. We can’t.”

But Achilles doesn’t listen. Instead, he drags his lips down the side of Patroclus’s face, down his throat, where he starts to suck love bites into his skin, marking him as his own. He tightens his hold on Patroclus’s wrists with every move.

Enough is enough — he refuses to be further demeaned. Patroclus struggles against his hold and finally manages to push him away. He cradles his throbbing wrists against his chest, breathing harshly before touching the the side of his neck. His fingers come away wet with Achilles’s saliva and he can see bright red marks blooming on his skin in the mirror that sits next to Achilles’s bed.

Clenching his eyes shut, he tries to calm himself. Achilles isn’t in the right frame of mind. He is acting on whim, rashly coming up with solutions without thinking through the consequences. He breathes deeply through his nose and finally, after collecting himself, opens them to scold the other boy.

But his words catch in his throat as Achilles drops to his knees and leans forward, touching his forehead to the ground by Patroclus’s feet. He shakes as wretched sob after wretched sob tears from his body and Patroclus can feel his heart breaking. This is all his fault.

He is experiencing a lot of firsts today. In all his time in Phthia, he has never seen Achilles cry. The other always dismisses it as a useless emotion, that only serves as a sign of weakness. Gods don’t cry, Achilles always says. No matter how much they hurt, they do not show it on their face.

Patroclus kneels in front of Achilles and pulls him up, cradles his face in his palms and brushes his golden hair back off his forehead. “Control yourself, Achilles.”

Achilles touches the back of Patroclus’s hand and turns his head to press a kiss to his palm, sweet and tender. Patroclus’s heart jumps in his throat as Achilles kisses his hand over and over again before pulling back and wrapping both of his hands around his. Gently. Eyes shut, Achilles presses their clasped hands against his forehead and says, “Please, Patroclus. I know that you do not want this, that you do not want me. But please.”

He is still crying. Thick and ugly tears streak down his red face, reminding Patroclus of the fact that while divine blood surges through Achilles, he is also half human, capable of expressing mortal emotions. Achilles takes a deep breath before continuing scruffily. “Please, you’ve always let me be selfish. Ever since we were young, you’ve always put up with me. Let me do as I wished. Let me be selfish one more time. Just one more time and I’ll never ask anything of you again.”

“Achilles—”

“Please don’t leave me here, Patroclus. Don’t leave me behind. I love you.”

 _Oh_. Patroclus swears he feels his heart stop for a beat. He watches with wide eyes as Achilles, unbeknownst to his thoughts, continues to alternate between kissing his hand and pressing it against his forehead. Patroclus shivers as an inappropriate surge of giddiness starts to make its way up his spine. But then he reigns himself in just as quickly. There is definitely a mistake. Surely, he heard wrong. There is no way Achilles loves him the way he wishes to be loved. Without daring to hope, voice catching in his throat, he asks, “What did you say?”

Achilles looks up, eyes even redder than before and appearing oh, so human. His face holds a semblance of control for the first time since court. “I love you.” His voice cracks with emotion.

“Truly?”

Achilles sits up. He wipes the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, refusing to let go of Patroclus and nods, his eyes not meeting Patroclus’s. It is as if time has paused and he furrows his brows as he stares at a spot on the dirt floor. “Why are you asking like you don’t know?”

“Because I didn’t.”

Achilles startles. The suddenness of his movement drags Patroclus forward, who falls against his chest and scrunches his hand in the front of his tunic. Achilles holds him tight and with his ear pressed against Achilles’s heart, Patroclus can hear its beat pick up. Moments pass in silence before he finally speaks. “You didn’t know?”

“How was I supposed to know?” Patroclus replies, tightening his fingers around the neckline. “You never said anything.”

Achilles breathes in deep. The slightest tinge of hope seeps into his voice as he says, “I thought you knew - you never reciprocated any of my affections so I just let things be. I didn’t want to give you another thing to worry about because of me.”

His heart thrums like a hummingbird’s wings and Patroclus feels his own do the same. Pulling back, he looks up at Achilles and studies his face. The raw emotion causes his heart to swell and he finally does what he’s wanted to do for the last six years. Ever since their other foster brothers started to take girls back to their quarters.

He kisses Achilles.

He pours his entire heart into his kiss, surging up and sealing his lips over Achilles’s as if it is his purpose for living. Achilles releases his hold and lowers Patroclus onto his back. He holds Patroclus’s wrists in his hands, caressing the insides with his thumbs before pulling them apart and softly pinning them down on either sides of his head. Lying over Patroclus, he engages him in a heady kiss that has them breathing hard when they finally apart.

“Me too,” Patroclus says as Achilles noses at his throat and drags his tongue down it, past his collarbone, as he searches for new areas to make love bites.

“Hmm?” Achilles hums as he starts to move upward once more. He’s gotten carried away in the moment easily. Has already accepted their declarations of love. But Patroclus still feels the need to say it — more for his own ears than for Achilles’s. He needs to say it out loud at long last.

Achilles presses their lips together again, once then twice, and when they separate, Patroclus replies, “Me too. I love you, too.”

Achilles grins and releases one of Patroclus’s hands to guide his own further down. He reaches under Patroclus’s tunic and touches his cock before giving it a squeeze. “So I can do this?”

Warmth courses through Patroclus’s body. “Do you truly believe that they will let me live if we do this?”

“No,” Achilles replies, pressing soft and chaste kisses against his lips. Patroclus stills, his heart jammed in his throat. This is the worst situation to be in. The idea of being separated from Achilles after knowing that he, too, desires him is unbelievably painful, even more so than what he imagines the sacrificial flames will feel like. He is losing himself to his thoughts, to another downward spiral, when Achilles thumbs over the head of Patroclus’s cock and muses, “However, I believe it will be very likely.”

“Likely?” Patroclus’s head tilts back as Achilles lightly drags his nail over the slit and pushes his other hand under his tunic to pinch his hardened nipple. He bites back a groan as Achilles twists his nipple and applies more force to his strokes.

“I talked to my father before I came back. He kept emphasizing that you had to be a virgin. I think it might have been a hint. He doesn’t want you to die either.”

“But he didn’t say anything in court.”

“Have you met my mother?” Achilles asks. He pauses to sit back on his knees. Patroclus props himself up on his elbows and raises a brow. Achilles stares for a few seconds, biting his lip before he stands and in one swift motion, heaves Patroclus up into his arms. “Besides, he couldn’t say it outright in court. The council would have held him accountable. Now? It’s all on us.”

Patroclus yelps as he feels the air beneath him and wraps his arms around Achilles’s neck. Achilles may be strong, but Patroclus isn’t light. Pelion and the return to Phthia have done him good and he has become broader and more muscular in the years past. Definitely too heavy to be carried around like he is a feather.

It is as Achilles lowers him down onto his bed that he remembers that he is in the arms of a god. Half god, half human. Only Zeus knows what he has done to deserve this.

Now that they’re on a softer surface, Achilles surges forward with more intent. He mouths harshly at Patroclus’s neck and kisses him hard before pulling off his rumpled clothes in one swift move. He pushes Patroclus back before reaching for the back of his own undone tunic and pulling it off.

Patroclus finds his eyes wandering. He’s obviously seen Achilles bare many times, but this is the first time he has been able to really look. To let the lust seep through his eyes and not be afraid of getting caught. Getting caught…

“What if she finds out?” He asks as Achilles drops to his knees and takes his cock in his palm. He slides his hand up and down a few times to pump it before thumbing the trickling pre-cum all over the head.

“Who?”

“Your mother.”

Achilles raises a brow and spreads his legs. “I think she is going to _have_ to find out. That’s the whole point of us confessing our love for one other. This is a life or death kind of situation, Patroclus. Or has the sight of me in bed made you forget what is at stake?”

“She wishes for you to have a wife.”

“I am done caring what she wishes for,” Achilles responds venomously.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. This entire situation is so ridiculous that despite himself, Patroclus throws his head back and starts to laugh with the same lightness he always feels when he is around Achilles. Through gasping breaths, he manages to say, “What are we doing?”

“Well, _I_ am going to take you into my mouth,” Achilles grins, and without another word presses a fleeting kiss to the inside of Patroclus’s thigh and wraps his mouth around his cock. Instantly, the surrounding warmth causes Patroclus to raise his hips, his toes curling as Achilles bobs his head. He feels the tip of his cock hit the back of Achilles’s mouth as he continues to take him in deeper and deeper.

“She’s going to be so mad,” Patroclus says as Achilles guides his legs to rest on his shoulders.

Annoyed, Achilles pulls away with a pop. He shifts forward so that he is hovering over Patroclus and brackets his head between his forearms.

“Can we not talk about my mother? I am trying to thoroughly ravish you and you are killing the mood,” he grumbles before leaning down and giving Patroclus a filthy kiss. He pushes his tongue past his lips and traces the inside of his mouth as he takes him into his hand once more and begins to jack him off. Patroclus whimpers, the inside of his mouth coated in the slimy salty flavor, as he feels his orgasm building and arches his back only for Achilles to let go and drop back to his knees.

“Not yet,” he says, holding up Patroclus’s cock and kissing the head. He places his tongue at the base and drags it up teasingly. Patroclus grabs onto a pillow next to him and pulls it over his face, muffling his moans. His hips stutter as Achilles hastens his movements and then he’s cumming.

He groans, deep and guttural as Achilles keeps his lips tightened around his member, swallowing every last drop. When he stops shaking, Achilles drags his tongue up against the underside once more, peppering in a few kisses before pulling away and standing.

“Me too,” he says as he takes himself in his hand and gives his cock a few rough tugs. It hardens and he guides Patroclus up before pushing his member past his lips. Patroclus scruffs his nose at the first breech; in his enthusiasm, Achilles accidentally presses in too roughly, causing him to gag. He pulls back and glares at his friend before pushing his hand away and setting his own pace.

Patroclus wraps a tentative hand around him and begins to drag it up and down, bobbing his head along with his movements. He stops to spit into his palm and thoroughly coats the other’s cock, smiling when Achilles’s head tilts back and he groans. Loud and rough. He tries to mimic Achilles’s previous actions, sets a similar pace, and sooner than not, Achilles cums without warning.

Patroclus coughs as Achilles releases into his mouth. A few lagging spurts of cum burst from the tip of his cock and land on his cheek.

“Disgusting,” Patroclus says, wiping the cum off his face with his right forearm. It smears and he glares at Achilles.

“Hey, we have to make sure there isn’t even the slightest doubt that you’re a virgin,” Achilles grins cheekily, “because trust me, my mother will use any excuse.”

“I know,” Patroclus rolls his eyes before grabbing Achilles’s tunic from the floor and using it to scrub his face. “I’ve met her. And who’s bringing her up now?”

Achilles holds up his hands in defeat before reaching down and grabbing Patroclus’s hips. He pulls him to the edge of the bed and nudges him to roll over. Patroclus obeys, balancing himself up on his forearms and pushing his ass up. He grinds against Achilles’s front and gives him a sultry look which lasts seconds before the strength in his arms dissipates.

Achilles spreads him open and without warning, drags his tongue up from the base of his cock, over the rim of his puckered hole. He repeats the movement, changing up the speed and gripping Patroclus’s plush cheeks in his hands, spreading him wider and wider.

Patroclus is at a loss for words. All he can do is whimper softly, embarrassed by the noises that he is making, but too overwhelmed by the feeling of Achilles’s rough tongue to care. He grinds back against Achilles’s face and breathes in stutters and elongated gasps. Achilles starts to run his thumb over his entrance, alternating between it and his tongue, teasing the rim just so and delving further to nip at the skin right above.

“Achilles, please,” Patroclus moans loudly as Achilles pushes his index finger just a few centimeters in, caressing his skin with his thumb. “Please.”

He isn’t sure what he is asking for. All he can feel is Achilles’s mouth forming a smile into his skin and he moans louder and higher as he is further opened up. Patroclus drops his head onto his arm and bites it, leaving thick indents of his teeth. Achilles continues his assault on his hole, adding in another finger then another and pushing them in deeper. He pauses to pull them out and rolls Patroclus onto his back before resuming. He scissors and then curls them slightly and Patroclus sees stars as he arches his hips, groaning louder. He grabs the discarded pillow and pulls it over his face, pressing into it hard as Achilles further scissors his fingers, a budding sense of pleasure starting to overtake the pain.

From under the pillow, its beaded tassels flicking against his reddened cheeks, he manages to groan, “Achilles. Achilles, I’m ready. Please, I’m ready.”

Achilles sucks in a deep breath and pulls out his fingers. Already, Patroclus can feel a sense of emptiness and he raises the pillow to glance at Achilles, who is lubing himself up with oil from a pot he has placed on the bed. He raises a brow as they make eye contact.

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” Achilles grunts, his cheeks reddening as he eyes Patroclus spread out and ready to take him.

“Thought that was the point,” Patroclus replies, sitting up to dip his fingers into the pot. Red bruises in the outline of Achilles’s hands are starting to form around his wrists. He holds himself up on one hand and pushes the coated fingers inside of himself, deciding that there is no downside to additional lube. “Make sure they know.”

His actions have a resounding effect on Achilles who growls viciously and pushes Patroclus back.

“You’re going to be the end of me, Patroclus,” he says, pulling on Patroclus’s inserted hand and threading their fingers together. Patroclus smiles sweetly and bats his eyelashes exaggeratedly. He leans up and presses a sweet kiss against Achilles’s cheek before flopping back down and laughing as Achilles stares at him open-mouthed. There is obvious lust in his eyes and beneath that overt adoration.

Achilles gets on the bed as well and slowly prowls forward, forcing Patroclus to scoot back. Finally, when his head hits the wall, Patroclus stops. He wraps his arms around Achilles’s neck as the other leans down and smiles softly into the crook of his neck.

“I really do love you,” Achilles says, reaching out to wrap his right arm around Patroclus’s back. He holds him flush against his chest. “You know that, right? And that means I’d never want to hurt you. Never in a thousand years.”

Patroclus nods against his throat, presses a kiss against his collarbone and arches his back. He has been empty for far too long and craves the feeling of Achilles inside of him. Wants to feel even closer to him.

Achilles slowly lowers him back down to the bed and sits up. He gives his cock a few strokes and spreads Patroclus’s legs.

“Ready?” he asks.

Patroclus nods and blindly grabs for his pillow, wanting to pull it over his face once more to muffle the embarrassing sounds he knows he is about to make. But instead, the only thing he feels is Achilles’s hand, which wraps around his and laces their fingers together.

“No,” Achilles says as he lines himself up with Patroclus’s entrance using his other hand. “I want to hear you scream. Scream for me, Patroclus. Make sure they can all hear you, that they all know. They cannot take away what is mine. Let them know you are mine.”

And with that, he pushes in.

Patroclus feels like he is being ripped in half. There is just no other way to describe the overwhelming pain. He breathes raggedly through his mouth, his eyes clenched shut so hard that they hurt, as a distressed yell erupts from somewhere deep inside. Achilles stills halfway in, entwines the fingers of their other hand and bites down on his lip to stop himself from shoving all the way in. He brushes Patroclus’s dark curly locks off his sweaty forehead and presses soft kisses against it.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” he murmurs as he continues to pepper him in love. He waits patiently, waits for Patroclus to adjust to his size, whispering sweet nothings to him and rubbing the sides of his chest. Up, down. Up, down. Patroclus keeps his eyes closed, biting his lip until he draws blood and focuses on stilling his breathing.

Eventually, the pain fades to a slight throb and he finally opens his eyes. Blinking back tears, he nods at Achilles.

“Are you sure?” Achilles presses their foreheads together and the slight shift causes Patroclus to arch his back. It still isn’t pleasurable, but he thinks he enjoys the feeling of being full.

Closing his eyes once more, he nods. “Yes, do it.”

Achilles presses further in, hesitantly until he is sheathed fully inside of Patroclus, his breaths escaping in hot huffs. He tightens his grip around Patroclus’s fingers before groaning loudly.

It is without doubt the hottest thing Patroclus has ever heard and he curls his toes before saying, “Again.”

Achilles pulls out to his tip and pushes back in, this time a bit faster. Then again. And again. Slowly, Patroclus becomes used to the sensation and starts to move his hips to match Achilles’s pace. He can feel his heart beating in his throat, his pulse rising as they begin to speed up the thrusts. Skin slaps against skin and Patroclus raises his hips to meet Achilles’s with matching force.

And then it happens. Achilles angles his thrust just so that an overwhelming jolt of pleasure courses through Patroclus’s veins and he yelps as he feels all strength in his legs disseminate and his hips drop on the mattress. Achilles pauses out of shock but Patroclus vehemently shakes his head. Instead, he reaches out and wraps his arms around Achilles’s neck so that his elbows are locked behind it.

“Again,” he pants harshly into Achilles’s ear. “Do that again.”

Bewildered, Achilles sits back, pulling Patroclus along with him so that he fully sheaths his cock. He shoves upward in the same direction and a scream of pleasure tears itself from Patroclus’s throat.

It feels so good, so hot and he presses his forehead against Achilles’s collarbone as the rest of his body slumps from the feeling of pure ecstasy. He can barely breathe. His chest hurts as if he has been running for days and his heart threatens to rip from its cage as Achilles grabs the back of his head, twists his fingers into his curly hair and holds it by the roots and kisses him. Really kisses him hard and dirty and oh, so passionately, his fingers tightly gripping the strands, lightly pulling at them to the point that Patroclus feels like he is being eaten alive. Achilles lays him back on the bed, his own face now pressing against Patroclus’s chest as he fucks him, faster and harder and even faster before he finally topples over the edge and cums harder than he ever has, Achilles’s name falling from his lips in broken cries.

He gasps harshly as Achilles bites his shoulder and stills, adding another mark to his collection. Moments later, he empties himself inside Patroclus.

They lie there, locked together for what seems like ages as they ride out their highs before Achilles leans up on his forearms. Still inside of Patroclus, he kisses him deeply. Filthily. And Patroclus responds enthusiastically, his legs locked tightly around Achilles’s hips, his ankles crossed as he moans in response. Achilles, Achilles, Achilles. It is the only thing he knows. The only thing that exists for him anymore. His senses are resoundingly wrapped up in nothing else and he loses himself for a moment, unable to process anything anymore.

Eventually, Achilles pulls himself out and rolls Patroclus over onto his knees. Wrapping an arm around his waist to hold him up, he pushes himself back in.

Over the course of the night, he alternates between fucking Patroclus like a wanton whore and making soft and tender love to him. Constantly checking to make sure if Patroclus is okay and ensuring that no part of him remains unmarked.

They continue as, outside their window, the sky begins to lighten and eventually the sun rises, casting bright red light across their skin. Again and again and again, until Patroclus collapses with finality, his entire body aching and bruised, his lips swollen and his throat screamed raw. Next to him, Achilles fares the same. Tired, but happy and thoroughly ravaged.

They lie curled around one another in silence, their fingers laced together. Achilles is tracing soft patterns into Patroclus’s skin, over the ridges and soft curves, when Patroclus asks, “What if after all this, they still come for me.” His voice is hoarse and his body threatens to fall asleep at any moment.

“I won’t let them.”

“But what if they do anyways?” Patroclus fights to keep his eyes open.

Achilles sucks in a deep breath before he pulls Patroclus closer to himself and kisses the back of his neck. “Let them try. I wouldn’t hesitate to kill and die for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Whoo, this was fun! It is the first fic I've written for these fandoms and the first one that I have posted in over five years. All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Come chat with me on [Tumblr](https://xxgingerchanxxx.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/xxgingerchanxxx)!


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